It's a Sword
by MyFairJohn
Summary: Meghan is acting dumb and Ash straitens her out.  No more explanation needed. CRACK!fic. Please R/R, even if you hate it.  Takes place during the Iron Queen  no major spoilers  and is K  for minor language.


_Author's note: I read the _Iron Queen_ and when I saw this part in the book, I couldn't stop laughing. Meghan sounded so idiotic that I had to write a crack-fic. Hope you like it. If you don't, then too bad._

Ash strode to a nearby chair, swooped down, and tossed me a long, slightly curved stick. When I caught it, I saw that it was actually a leather sheath with a gilded brass hilt poking from the top. A sword. Ash was giving me a sword … why?

_Oh, yeah_. Because I wanted to learn to fight. Because I'd asked him to teach me.

Ash, watching me with that weary, knowing look on his face, shook his head. "You forgot, did you?"

"Nooooo," I said quickly. "I just … didn't think it would be this soon."

"This is the perfect place." Ash turned slightly to gaze around the clearing. "Quiet, hidden. We can catch our breath here. It's a good place to learn while you're waiting for your father to come out of it. When we're done here, I have a feeling things will get much more chaotic." He gestured to the sword in my hand. "Your first lesson begins now. Draw your sword."

I did. Unsheathing it sent a raspy shiver across the glen, and I gazed at the weapon in fascination. The blade was thin and slightly curved, an elegant looking weapon, razor sharp and deadly. A warning tickled the back of my mind. There was something about the blade that was … different. Blinking, I ran my fingers along the cool, gleaming fuller, and a chill shot through my stomach.

The blade was made of steel. Not faery steel. Not a fey sword covered in glamour. Real, ordinary iron. The kind that would burn faery flesh and sear away glamour. The kind that left wounds impossible to heal.

I gaped at it, then at Ash, who looked remarkably calm to be facing his greatest weakness. "This is steel," I told him, sure that Leanansidhe had made a mistake.

He shook his head. "No, it's actually tin foil. It was a lot cheaper and I didn't have to promise Leanansidhe as much as I would have for a real sword."

"Really?" I gasped, alarmed that his promise to a certain exiled fey may have been something like becoming her servant or playing a violin for the next hundred years. "What did you promise her?"

"Just my sexual services for the next few years," Ash replied with a smirk, running his hands down his well-muscled chest. "She likes my body."

"What?"

"It's true. I cannot deny that small fact. It won't hurt our relationship at all. Surely you're not so selfish that you can't share me with another woman. I can share you with Puck if you want."

I paused, considering. That might work, and then again it might not. "We could always try it out for 30 days, as long as there's a money-back guarantee.

"It doesn't matter." He changed back to our old subject, and hurried on before I could argue. "I wanted a light, slashing weapon for you, one with a good amount of reach, to keep opponents farther away, so tin foil was perfect, because you are too weak to use anything else." He gestured to the saber with his own weapon, a blindingly quick stab of blue. "You'll be moving around a lot, using speed instead of brute force against your enemies. That blade won't block heavier weapons, and you don't have the strength to swing a longsword effectively, so we're going to have to teach you how to dodge. This was the best choice."

"But this isn't foil," I repeated, listening to him in amazement. "This is steel. . . I think."

Ash regarded me with his depthless mercury eyes for several long seconds. "And you're a total retard. . . I think. Of course it's steel. No, actually it's made of chocolate, covered in steel and frozen to make it hard."

"Oh. I see." Then another question occurred to me. "But why a real sword? I could seriously hurt someone. Like, _kill_ them. As in kill them dead."

"Meghan." Ash gave me a patient look. "Don't be a dumb ass. That's exactly why I chose it."

"But I could kill someone with it and I don't want to do that. It might hurt them."

One coal-black eyebrow rose slightly. "Really, now. I did not know that."

"But it will, see?" I swung the sword down in a vicious arc and severed my hand off at the wrist. "Told ya so."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up, palms forward. "You're bleeding all over my carpet."

"I know, dude. And it kind of hurts, too. I mean, it's a dull kind of pain, more numb than anything, but it still hurts. Can you put my hand back on for me?" I was starting to get dizzy and the room spun around me.

Cold hands grabbed my upper arms and caught me just as I was about to fall. "What do you know?" Ash asked softly, his voice sounding very distant and also annoyed. "I see how it is. She makes a mess and then expects me to clean it up. I guess that's all I'm good for." He broke down into hysterical sobs. "Why me?" he wailed. "Why?"

_Note: I will continue this if enough people review. So please tell me what you think of it._


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